


this is why hazing is banned on college campuses

by StarAmongStones



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Deputy Derek, Frat Boy Stiles, M/M, Public Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarAmongStones/pseuds/StarAmongStones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is arrested for public indecency. Derek is unfortunate enough to cross his path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is why hazing is banned on college campuses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Public Indecency](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177422) by [literaryoblivion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion). 



> Thanks literaryoblivion for letting me play in your sandbox. I adored all of your stories, but this one stuck with me because I'm probably too emotionally attached to the idea of Deputy!Derek. I hope you like it!  
> Also, shoutout to Lisa for the fastest beta work I've ever seen. Thanks!

“You’re my son, and I love you,” the Sheriff had told Stiles after everything had been moved in to Stiles’ very first dorm room. “But I also know you, so instead of asking you to stay out of trouble I’m just going to ask that you never make me come out here to identify your body. Or pull any strings to get you out of jail. I already owe Bob one too many favors.”

“Gee, dad, I’m getting a little misty here,” Stiles joked, a flimsy cover for the residual guilt he felt over being more interested in crime scenes than chemistry in high school. Which tended to get his dad into trouble more often than not.

His dad pulled him in for a fierce hug instead of answering, and Stiles silently promised his mischievous streak was a thing best left in high school.

* * *

“And the purest of us must become also impure so that he may join our tainted brethren in the house of the Alpha, the Epsilon, and the Pi,” one of Stiles’ soon-to-be frat brothers said. Stiles had a black cloth bag over his head, but he was pretty sure that was Jackson. Jackson was a douchebag. Of course he signed up to lead the first round of hazing (or “team building” since hazing has been completely forbidden on campus since 2005).

After a beat, he heard Jackson sigh. “I told you that didn’t make any sense.” Then, a bit louder but no less defeated, “Virgins have to streak through the woods. Everyone else has to walk back to the house and clean the kitchen.”

Well, that was certainly unexpected.

“Chop chop, boys,” one of the guys said behind Stiles, and he figured _what the hell_. It wasn’t like it was any different from changing in a locker room, right? Just, less people in locker rooms had definitive proof he had yet to get laid. College movies had clearly misled him as to what life would be like post-high school.

Careful not to dislodge the bag, Stiles stripped his t-shirt over his head, made quick work of his jeans and shoes, and then awkwardly stood there. “So, uh, how does this work?”

Instead of an answer, someone took Stiles by the shoulders, which he fought valiantly not to shrug off because he was naked and there are supposed to be _rules_ , and turned him slightly to the right.

“That’s not an answer to my question!” Stiles called over his shoulder when the person shoved him forward.

“You have a direct path into the woods,” Jackson said blankly. “You can take off the hood in about ten minutes. We’ll leave your clothes here. Try not to make too many turns so you can find your way back.”

Stiles wandered of, and it took longer than Stiles would ever admit before he realized he didn’t have a watch on.

* * *

“Thanks, Officer,” Stiles winked at the man locking him into a holding cell. “Be sure to ask your wife about that threesome, yeah?”

The guy booked it across the room without a second glance back at Stiles, but the blush on the guy’s cheeks could have been seen from space.

So maybe he should have been trying to get himself out of jail before he had to ask his father to call in a favor instead of antagonizing the officers, but the guy made it too easy.

At first he had thought Officer Greenberg was homophobic, so he decided to aggressively refuse to wear clothes on the ride to the station to screw with the guy. It took Stiles about half the ride to realize the looks were the very opposite of disapproving.

Stiles shivered when the air conditioning kicked in. Yeah, the no-clothes idea had a definite downside. He wandered around to find the least drafty spot in the cell, which turned out to be a spot just off center on the back wall.

Stiles heard footsteps approaching so he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk at the ready for Greenberg again, but the man walking towards him was most certainly not Greenberg.

“Enjoying the view?” Stiles threw in a wink because he was already naked. He had no shame to lose.

“Got a name?” the guy asked sharply. His jaw clenched and unclenched visibly too. It all would have made a very foreboding picture except for the blush creeping around from the back of the officer’s neck, up towards the tips of his ears.

Stiles grinned because it was _adorable_. “Stiles. I’d shake your hand, but…” he wiggled his fingers a bit to draw attention to the cuffs. It was bad form for Greenberg to leave them on, but Stiles honestly thought the poor man might have gone into cardiac arrest being that close to his ass two times in one day so he was going to let it slide.

“Last name,” the officer asked, and yep. His eyes were definitely lingering. Stiles swallowed hard.

Names were exchanged, and it turned out the guy – Deputy Hale – knew Stiles’ dad. He was pretty sure that was why Stiles was getting off with a warning, and the best part was that no one had to make any calls so his dad was none the wiser. He kind of wanted to dance in relief, but he also really wanted pants. Especially if he was expected to keep looking at the hotness personified that was Deputy Hale.

“I think yours will do,” Stiles said, eying the officer’s pants. Apparently the relief of not getting his dad involved was making him bold.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll let you walk me out of here in your pants.”

“Seriously?”

Okay, so he knew he was pushing it. He clarified, “ _Only_ yours. I’m sure you got an extra pair in your locker or your desk drawer. Although…I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. I’d be happy with the ones you’re wearing right now.”

Hale narrowed his eyes, but Stiles just smiled in what he hoped was a winning, convincing manner. The truth was, it could all have backfired spectacularly. They didn’t _have_ to let him go. But he’d be damned if he didn’t press his luck a little. Hale was _fun_. Fun in a way he wanted more of.

“Fine,” Hale said.

Stiles resisted fist-pumping the air. Mostly because he was still cuffed, but no one had to know that. Hale quickly came back with a pair of basketball shorts and no jacket that Stiles knew every officer had stashed away in the coat room as a back-up for when situations went south. He _knew_ he wasn’t reading too much into this.

Hale totally wanted him.

“You’re free to go,” Deputy Hale waved him away when all the paperwork had been signed and dated.

Stiles frowned. He wanted to spend more time with the guy (and the sidelong glances he was giving Stiles when he thought Stiles wasn’t paying attention were enough to convince him the feeling was mutual). Suddenly, he looked down at his feet and then back up at Hale. There was no way the man was going to make him walk home barefoot in just a borrowed pair of shorts. “You’re giving me a ride.”

“No, I am not,” Deputy Hale said, sounding final.

* * *

“And so that’s how I ended up in jail,” Stiles ended the account of his day cheerfully. “Take a left at the next light, by the way.”

Deputy Hale blinked slowly at the stop light in front of them and asked, “And you actually _want_ to live with these kids?”

“Woah, we are all of legal age. I cannot stress that enough.” Stiles smirked at the blush spreading up the back of the Deputy’s neck. “Besides, it was just Jackson, and he’s hated me since forever. It was my fault, really, for trusting him in the first place. I refuse to let him ruin this for Scott, though, so he can just get over himself.”

Stiles debated sending the Deputy the wrong way so they’d have more time to talk, but figured the least Stiles could do was not fuck with him. Well, any more than he already had.

“Scott?” Deputy Hale asked, taking the left.

“Best friend. Roommate. My sun and stars, basically. Hey, totally off topic, but what’s your name? I keep referring to you as Deputy Hale in my head, and it’s weird. I mean, you’ve already seen me naked.”

“It’s Derek,” he answered. It was a good sign that the guy didn’t seem the least bit thrown by the sudden topic change. Stiles was never one to be confined by conventional conversation structures.

Before he could say anything else, he had to direct Derek through two more quick turns and then they were at the house. Damn.

“So I was thinking-“ Stiles started. He cut himself off when Derek opened his door and got out, ignoring him completely. Stiles scrambled to follow. As he slid his key into the front door, he said, “Not that I’m complaining even a little, but why are you following me inside?”

“Those are my favorite shorts,” Derek shrugged, striding past him once he finally got the sticky lock to cooperate.

“Oh, I get it. You just want to get me out of my pants. Say no more; that can very easily be arranged,” Stiles said playfully as he followed Derek into the living room. Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles totally caught the hint of a blush creeping upwards. 

“Just go change, Stiles.”

“Two minutes,” Stiles held up two fingers, casually backing out of the room until he turned the corner and could dash up the stairs.

“Stiles!” Scott cried when he burst into the upstairs hallway. “You’re alive!”

“I’m what?” Stiles asked, the last bit muffled against his friend’s shoulder as Scott pulled him into a tight hug.

“Everyone’s out looking for you,” Scott explained, pulling away. “I’m just here to collect reinforcements,” he gestured behind him with a heavy-duty flashlight to where his friends Lydia, Allison, and Kira were standing. Stiles was at best acquaintances with the ladies, so he was unexpectedly touched that they would show up to help look for him, even if it was clearly mostly for Scott’s benefit.

Stiles smiled. “Thanks, but no need. Obviously.”

“Oh, right! We should probably call everyone back.”

Before Scott could grab his phone, Lydia said, “No need. I just texted Jackson. They’re on their way.”

“As I must be,” Stiles said, inching around Scott. “I have an unfairly attractive man waiting downstairs for his shorts and I’m afraid if I spend too much time up here he’ll have time to think about me and that’s probably not a good plan so if you don’t mind I’m going to just duck in my room and I’ll explain everything later and I love you all. Okay, bye.”

He shut the door on four very confused, vaguely amused faces. Whatever. He’d done weirder things. He threw on whatever was on top of his quickly dwindling clean pile of clothes, and dashed back downstairs. He neglected to remember the guys had waxed the floors the previous weekend in his mad dash to get back to the living room, so instead of stopping just outside the room he skidded into the doorway with a dull thud.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, clearly biting down on a laugh.

“No laughing at me,” Stiles rubbed his now-bruised shoulder. “I’m injured and traumatized from today’s events.” Then, slyly, “Pretty sure the only thing that could cure it is a burger from Dempsey’s downtown.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. He’s pretty sure Kira giggled from somewhere to his right, and Lydia muttered something about being embarrassingly unsubtle, but he was too focused on what Derek would do next to properly lament his – _Scott’s_ – poor choices in friends.

“Well,” Derek moved towards Stiles, but kept his eyes on Allison, “have your dad come by the station with that new Glock and I’ll make sure the Sheriff meets with him. You can come too if you really are interested in law enforcement.”

“I will. Thanks, Derek,” Allison said, eyes bright. “See you Thursday.”

Derek nodded at her, and then waved to everyone else. “It was nice to meet you all, but I apparently have dinner plans.”

“I knew all this was working for you,” Stiles gestured towards himself.

“Get in the car before I change my mind,” Derek rolled his eyes. It was totally in a fond way, though.


End file.
